


Explode-y Things Rock

by Azure_Lynx



Series: A Very Rowdy Holidays [2]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Amanda is a photography geek cuz I mean what else can you do stuck inside all day, Fireworks, Fluff, Fourth of July, Gripps does tattoos and draws, Kisses, Multi, Of many kinds wink wink, Poly pack, Sparklers, The usual thievery, They'd do anything for her, Uncle Sam's Explode-o-mart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12241092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azure_Lynx/pseuds/Azure_Lynx
Summary: A holiday based on explosions sounds exactly up the Rowdies' alley. Plenty of theft later, the group is ready to try out fireworks for the very first time. And for once in their chaotic lives, things actually don't go wrong.





	Explode-y Things Rock

When Amanda brought up a whole other holiday, Vogel was excited. Valentine’s Day had been so much fun! Then, when she said that it had to do with shooting off fireworks and playing with sparklers and little popping things, he had transcended to a higher plane. 

“Martin. Martin, we gotta! Martin!” he had been babbling all day.

At first, Martin had vetoed the idea. It seemed like a whole lot of hassle for pretty much the same payoff and destruction they got anyway. None of them had ever actually seen fireworks - a strange case of never quite being in the right place. For whatever reason, Fourth of July tended to place them far out in the middle of nowhere. Maybe a few sky sparks here and there, but never enough to matter. Perhaps it was by design.

Amanda had been making sad faces at him all day, though, and that was more than he could handle. “F’ne,” he grunted, yanking the wheel to cross three lanes of traffic. Horns honked all around them. Amanda flipped the other drivers off out the window and he smiled in spite of himself. She sure was somethin’.

They pulled into the parking lot of a ridiculous looking place called “Uncle Sam’s Explode-o-mart.” Amanda was judging them hardcore, but it seemed as good a place as any to gather supplies. This was gonna be _so much fun_ and she was looking forward to introducing them to the concept of sparklers, which they had never even heard of. Gripps especially.

She warned them things would be explosive, but they opted to take their weapons anyway. She hoped and prayed nothing would start a fire. 

They blew into the store like the five-person hurricane they were, snagging everything off the shelf that looked remotely fun. Amanda grabbed every single pack of sparklers that were on the shelf and directed Cross to the popping packs. She wasn’t even sure what the rest of them took - all she was aware of was the screaming and laughing and the sharp hot feeling of her feet hitting the pavement as she sprinted back to the van.

They all piled in and took off, leaving the clerk befuddled with a half-empty Explode-o-mart. Amanda, who used to work retail, occasionally felt bad for the trail of poor minimum-wage employees left in their wake to explain away the issues. But there was not much she could do - the boys were wild animals, and honestly, she was pretty much the same these days. 

Their next stop was a liquor store, more at Cross’ request than anything. He wanted to get something summer-y and celebratory, so he said. Amanda wasn’t sure what that would be like - honestly, she just wanted a bottle (or ten) of Corona with lime. Like her mom used to drink. 

In general, there was a time limit they were supposed to leave between raiding the same shop twice. Only they didn’t quite recognize this place until they walked in and found a tired shop attendant who clearly recognized them. 

“Oh, god. You again.” She sighed, placing her head in her hands. “Look, I don't really give a fuck. Take whatever you want. Just please don’t smash shit you don’t intend to take with you - I don’t have the energy to deal with that tonight.”

Amanda felt bad for the girl with a buzzcut and a tired face. “You got it.” She fixed her boys with a glare. “Behave.” 

They all obeyed their alpha girl without complaint, though Vogel’s hands twitched. He wanted to do something with them. Hopefully, there would be lots to do tonight, and it would make all this worth it. 

He had many, many ideas. 

They all grabbed their favorites. Gripps, feeling fancy, grabbed some Rosé and peach wine while the others took the usual beers and vodka. Amanda briefly considered something fruity, but nothing said “Fourth of July” like some Corona and a lime, her original conclusion. Then, they sped towards the door.

The girl, whose name tag labeled her the unlikely moniker of ‘Janine,’ gave them the one-fingered salute and Amanda gave it right back, grinning. She’d take the girl out sometime, for lunch or whatever. She knew her boys wouldn’t mind. 

They hopped in the car, laughing and whooping. Cross was already cracking open a beer impatiently, popping the tab on his can and downing it in seconds. Then he crumpled it and chucked it out the window at a passing car with racist bumper stickers. It was a clean hit and it took a good deal of paint off and left a small dent. 

“Coulda done more with a bottle,” he grumped. 

“No better way to celebrate America day than fucking up some racists,” Amanda replied, punching him in the arm. He didn’t seem to realize that no one but a Rowdy could even have dented the car like that, and that he should be proud for inconveniencing that dickbag like-so. “But we’ve got some fireworks to shoot off.” 

The sun wouldn’t set for another few hours, but Martin wanted to be somewhere alone with his family, so he drove east on the highway at double the speed limit and they sang along to old punk songs and howled at the top of their lungs. 

There was little he loved more than moments like this, with Vogel in the front seat holding his hand just cuz and Amanda in Cross’ lap in the back with her feet across the benches on Gripps’ lap. Sometimes people were in different places - sometimes he even let someone else drive. But he loved the feel of the roaring engine under his feet and everyone being tactile and loving each other.

It was sweeter than any emotion he’d ever taken from someone else. 

Vogel, sensing his alpha’s contentment, squeezed his hand and lay back a little more relaxed. This was cozy, but exhilarating at the same time, and there was nowhere he felt safer. On the one hand, he could not _wait_ to start shooting off fireworks and drinking and maybe making out with Amanda and whoever else was up for it. But on the other hand, he wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, speeding down the empty highway to the middle of nowhere and watching cop cars decide that it truly wasn’t worth it to try.

Amanda was playing Chopsticks with Gripps, giving way too much thought to the strategy of a simple finger game, though in some ways, Cross admired that. He didn’t have a head for strategy. He was a more “past and present” kind of guy than looking at the future, because who knew if the future would even happen anyway?

She was so soft, he thought, arms tight around her waist. So soft and sweet and punky and cool and everything that had been missing from his life - their lives - until she just walked right on into their van like they were the ones who should be scared of _her._ That was the moment he had fallen in love with her, right then and there, when she called herself “crazy stranger” right on back to Martin. She took no shit. 

She was his and she was theirs and most importantly she was her own. Every day was a choice she made, everything was a gift she gave to them. 

He buried his face in her neck and breathed deep, giving her little kisses and little bites; nothing to leave a mark, but to make her smile that brightest smile of hers. And she did, and he thought about leaving the rockets in the car and just making her smile all throughout the night, and that was enough fireworks for him.

Then again, Cross was never one to turn down blowing shit up. 

Amanda whooped triumphantly, having finished off and won a fifteen-minute game. Gripps shook his head, tutting, and stared at his traitorous hands. But he couldn’t be upset, because she was so happy, and her happiness literally spread to them all and soaked in every pore. Martin even pressed the gas a little harder, which Gripps had thought to be impossible. 

He glanced at his freshly painted nails - red, white, and blue, courtesy of Amanda’s sense of patriotism that emerged exactly once a year - and wiggled his fingers. “Rematch,” he demanded to his adversary.

She grinned at him. “You’re on. Prepare to lose _again._ ” 

Too soon, and yet after forever, Martin found what he was looking for and careened off the highway. A chorus of car horns applauded his decision and Vogel opted to show them a middle finger in return, left hand still tightly twined with Martin’s. Some things were constants in life. 

A few quick turns landed them on a dirt road and they left society behind them at a rapid pace. Pretty soon it was just open, dusty plains and the Rowdy 3 - all five of ‘em. Martin kept driving, reliant on the universe to tell them when to stop, and it did in the form of the very beginnings of the sunset. 

He threw the van into park and Amanda would’ve wound up against the front seat if not for Cross’ arms tightening around her waist and his quick bracing. 

“Fucker,” she spat at Martin, but her tone was playful as she climbed out of the back. “Let’s get this party going, then!”

They set up their usual car seat couches and Gripps got the (temperature-ly unnecessary) bonfire started. But it just so happened that Vogel had stolen some marshmallows on their latest Walmart raid, and so Amanda ripped open the bag and stuffed three in her mouth right off the bat, which led to Vogel sticking four in his, and Cross beating them both out with seven. 

“Don’t feel bad. He’s got the most practice,” Martin teased, winking at his packmates with a lazy smile. Cross winked back comically with his circled eye, beaming dirtily around his mouthful of marshmallows.

Vogel was ready to fight before he realized it was a sex joke, at which point he was filled with fiery determination and proclaimed, “I can practice a lot!” He seemed about ready to suck a dick then and there, but Amanda handed him a stick with a marshmallow on the end and he was easily distracted.

It was a little early in the night for that, and she wanted at least one firework to go off before any clothes did.

Gripps sat off to the side reading the instructions on all of the boxes, getting distracted by the sunset sometimes. It was really beautiful - he wished he could capture it in a tattoo for Amanda. It’d look amazing filling an oval across her hip. But he knew he could never do it justice for her. 

She came to drape herself over him and he leaned back into her embrace. “Whatcha thinkin’ bout?” she asked him at about the same time she popped a very melted marshmallow into his mouth.

It was hot and sticky and sweet - like that one classic rock song - and Gripps had to work to chew it enough to answer her. It was delicious, though, so he didn’t mind. 

“You,” he answered simply. “Tattoos. The sunset.” 

She nodded sagely. As always, she understood him with just a few words. “I want something meaningful,” she replied, referencing his offer to give her her first tattoo. The fact she didn’t have one yet was a travesty in his eyes, but pararibulitis made needles an unwise decision. “Something about you guys, maybe.”

She looked back over her shoulder to where Vogel was already straddling Martin on a couch and making out with him fervently while Cross chugged more beer and cheered them on. “Like for instance, if you could tattoo this entire scene on my back, that would be awesome. But also not.” She laughed. “I’d like to be able to go to the beach with my family again at some point.”

She thought about her mom, the sweet old lady with some _thoughts and sensibilities_ about the world, who had been appalled to hear about her daughter traveling across the country with a band of punks she’d just met. Also the fact her daughter had four boyfriends was more than a little horrifying to her. Amanda’s dad had mumbled under his breath about shotguns in the way most sexist dads did in response to the mere mention of a dude. But what should she have done, just not told them?

They’d come around eventually. They had to.

Gripps took her hand and leached just a bit of sadness to get her attention. He raised an eyebrow in offering, but she shook her head and wiped at her eyes. “Thanks, though.” She had a new family, and she loved them and they loved her, and that was more than enough for her. She gave Gripps a lingering kiss and then sat in his lap while he braided her hair and they waited for the sun to set a bit more. 

When Cross couldn’t wait anymore, he ripped open the packaging and set off a small firework. It exploded in a lime green burst and Vogel clapped excitedly. He was still in Martin’s lap and Martin had a hand around his waist, but he was facing the other way now while Martin absently bit at Vogel’s neck, leaving hickeys all over. They were peppered in with ones from Amanda the day before and some from Cross a few days ago that hadn’t faded. 

In short, Vogel’s neck was a piece of modern art. 

Cross set off a few more in quick succession, blues and purples and reds blossoming and falling. Amanda got up quickly and grabbed her DSLR camera from the back of the truck and adjusted her settings expertly before snapping as many pictures of the sky as she could. Something would turn out, she was sure of it. And then they’d have some sick memories. 

She turned her lens to Gripps, who fluttered his purple-mascara-ed lashes and posed coyly for her. She laughed, snapping away, then turned to catch some of Cross excitedly ripping open more packages and setting off more explosions. She caught a nice one of his face, lit up with pure joy. It warmed her heart. 

Then she picked her way over and took some pictures of Vogel and Martin before they noticed what she was doing, at which point Vogel laid backwards dramatically and Martin shoved one hand up Vogel’s shirt and one hand down the front of his pants. Vogel squeaked, eyes growing wide and face becoming mildly red, while Amanda laughed her ass off and snapped some more pics. 

“Priceless,” she breathed, letting her camera dangle from the strap and reaching down to kiss Vogel, who was still squirming a bit even after Martin returned his hands to their original positions. She sucked on his bottom lip and when she pulled away, his pupils were dilated and his breathing ragged. 

“Not fair,” he whined, punctuated by the sound of exploding fireworks. 

She grabbed his hand and yanked him out of Martin’s lap. “I’ll make up for it.” 

They lit two sparklers and danced around with them, watching the trails through the air left behind. Amanda snapped some more pics intermittently, but she was caught up in the moment now. 

Gripps got up to join them and lit a couple sparklers for himself, awed by their beauty. He wanted to draw it, or ink it onto someone. It’d be a good one for Vogel, he thought - Vogel was like the sparkler, in many ways. 

Amanda left the two of them to play with their new toy and walked over to Martin with the sparkler, shoving it in his hand. As he examined it, she lifted her camera back to her face, and she knew he was posing for her, but she didn’t mind. 

As the sparkler fizzled out, he tossed it to the side. Amanda put the lens cap on her camera and placed it gingerly on a makeshift table, then sat down in Martin’s lap. 

“You want the Vogel treatment?” he offered her, smirking lazily. 

“I want a beer,” she replied, and he fished a bottle of her Corona from the six pack at his feet. “Where’s the lime?” 

“You wanted lime?” He placed the bottle back on the ground. 

“I thought we had a lime. I distinctly remember stealing a lime from Walmart.”

“I don’t think we had a lime, Drummer Girl.”

Her disappointment was palpable, and Martin hooked his arms under her and stood up with her. He began to walk back to the car. Her arms flew around his neck instinctively. 

“Where are we going?” she asked. 

“To get you a lime.”

“We’re an hour from the nearest town.” She looked at him, flabbergasted. He shrugged. “Martin. Put me down.” He did not listen, so she used her alpha voice. “ _Now._ ”

That snapped him to attention and he gingerly placed her boots on the ground. He looked at her sheepishly. “You wanted a lime.” It was as much an apology as the word ‘Sorry.’

“It was really, really not that important.” But she was happy, so happy that he’d been willing to do such a dumb thing just for something silly she wanted. “But thanks.” 

He pushed her into the side of the van and kissed her. She shoved her hands into the lapels of his jacket and poured all her emotion into the kiss, letting him feed from her to feel it too. Vogel hooted and hollered, and Cross set off a wide barrage of fireworks, but they were no match for the ones inside her. 

This was love. And she didn’t want to celebrate anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently the holidays I write fics for are Valentine's Day and the Fourth of July...which means there will definitely be a New Year's Eve in here somewhere. Get excited for more Rowdy Shenanigans.  
> After I finished the first one I was like "God I love this idea" so I went and wrote a second one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.


End file.
